


The whore

by Llamaonfire



Category: The Beatles
Genre: AIDS, M/M, Sad, Suicide, whore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llamaonfire/pseuds/Llamaonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of a metaphor for what paul lived in the 60’s. (not to be able disrespectfully.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The whore

_"Everyday I have the same routine, same things I do. I come home and let the emptiness inside me fill me as I notice that I’m alone like always. That’s the thing about what I do, there are always a bunch of people everywhere in this place I call home but still I’m always alone._

_I head to my solitaire room and let my cheap silk sheet involve my sweaty, drained body. My mind reaches that funny place where it’s racing so much that it’s pretty much blank, just like when a child spins a rainbow colored wheel fast and it looks white."_

He eventually found himself in the shower, his hands worked his colorful and very sexy outfit off as the hot, steamy water made the small white bathroom hard to see inside. His pale skin slowly showed as his gown dropped, the warm air made his skin feel moist and soft.

He made his way into the shower, letting the hot water heat his skin, relaxing every muscle and making his make up run down his face. He ran his hands over his feminine features before  looking bellow at them, covered in colorful makeup, he was sent back. Back to a time which his life had a meaning, back when love wasn’t just a tool to fool clients into paying him better.

He found himself in that same shower, but two years back. His back was being covered with soft kisses and tender little nibbles. He knew those lips like his own, the feeling was more welcoming and relaxing than any other he had ever experienced.

He felt his body almost melt under his lover’s touch, welcoming the other man’s stiff member into his behind without complain.

This was different than any other time, he was not being payed, he did not have to act a certain way for his client because John wasn’t his client. Those beautiful sleepy, hazel eyes did not look at him with hunger and desire but with love and the deepest affection.

He could feel the way their bodies completed each other with ease, tensing up and calming down together. His mind was driven mad by this whole new world that was opened to him, a world where you don’t fuck people for money and fame, but for love, and because you have the need to be close to them.

Still soon that wonderful smile and shooing kiss shaded back to the memory, they left Paul in his reality, his self induced hell. A place where all people care about was how he looked and if he was a good fuck, a place where that true and virgin love was taken from him by Aids.

He looked at his own image in the mirror, letting the haunting memories of John’s final days drag their chains upon the corners of his mind. The image of his before young and beautiful lover now skinny, colorless and lifeless.

He couldn’t do it, he had held on for 2 years, waiting for something to tell him that it was all gonna be okay and that somehow he would be able to go on without John, still that didn’t come.

It was now 4am, the crisp morning air flew into the small and smelly one room apartment but for once Paul didn’t groat and run to shut the blinds and window he had forgotten open, for once his head didn’t ache of hung over and his body feel like it was run over by a bulldozer. He was at peace lying in his bed, not caring, not sleeping, not breathing. No longer he was a whore, he was now free and with his lover.


End file.
